


Ventures Forth

by Who Shot AR (akerwis)



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Absent Parents, Children, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-02
Updated: 2014-12-02
Packaged: 2018-02-28 08:07:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2725046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akerwis/pseuds/Who%20Shot%20AR
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kieran's first few days at Skyhold are filled with thoughts of his Warden father.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ventures Forth

Ever since the sky was torn open, spreading that sickly green light over the land, Kieran's thoughts have been of his father. Somewhere out there, Father is on his journey. Does he see the same wavering light of the Fade when he looks up? Or is he so far away that the Breach doesn't touch him?  
  
Even the excitement of traveling doesn't quiet the questions in his mind. Going to Skyhold means venturing forth just like Father does, venturing into Father's homeland. For Kieran, Ferelden has always been a mystery; until the Breach, it was a place lodged in a past that didn't include him. What he knows of it comes mostly from people who never lived there, either. _They love dogs so much they smell like them. Ferelden isn't a civilized place. And after the Blight..._  
  
Before they go, Mother mentions offhand that it isn't _really_ Ferelden. Only the border of Ferelden and Orlais. The Frostback mountains might as well belong to no one, from the way people talk about them. But even if they're standing with one foot at home and one abroad, he's still curious to see the place Father--and Mother, though it's much harder to imagine her coming from anywhere--was born. Nearer to it than Orlais, anyway. Besides, he doesn't mind the way dogs smell.  
  
Kieran spends the first day at Skyhold looking around and getting underfoot. Mother doesn't notice he's been wandering until the evening's meal; she has other things to do, and he's careful not to get into the kind of trouble that gets a boy dragged back to his mother by his ear. Most of the time, he's only watching the bustle of people--humans and elves and dwarves, and even a Qunari who winks at him on his way into the tavern.  
  
The air is fresh, so crisp and cold it nearly makes his nose hurt. His favourite thing, he decides, is standing on the broad bridge that leads from the mountain roads to Skyhold itself, crossing over great, empty spaces. There are heavy drifts of snow on the mountain face below, so far away he has to scramble up the stone wall a little to see it.  
  
When a soldier's hand catches him by the collar and pulls him back again, he decides he's going to have to find a way to grow tall enough that he won't look like he's trying to crawl over the edge of the wall.  
  
That evening, Kieran assures Mother he'll work _twice_ as hard at his lessons to make up for his wasted day. He does, too...up until he hears someone in the corridor say that the Inquisitor has returned to Skyhold. Nobody with any sense at all would stay in his room, staring at books of history and rhetoric and magic, knowing the Inquisitor herself was in the same fortress.  
  
He finds her, but this time, Mother finds him, too. He doesn't have the chance to ask to see the eerie green mark on the Inquisitor's hand up close, though he wishes he could have. Standing a few paces away from her, he could feel the way it seemed to breathe within the Inquisitor's skin, like a nug snuffling at the air. He wants to know what it's like to touch her hand, to stand so close to a piece of the Fade lodged within someone like a sliver. Someone who can't even do magic! Kieran wonders if the Inquisitor can hear the Fade speak to her inside her skin.  
  
The Inquisitor lingers in his mind with Father. He daydreams more than he means to, even after Mother comes back to their quarters. They sit in an amiable silence, each working (mostly), until Kieran pauses in the middle of a sentence. He can't keep quiet any longer. "Do you think the Inquisitor will fix the Breach, Mother?"  
  
Mother glances up from a letter she's writing, resting the end of her pen against her lips. She has a stack of parchment at her right elbow and a candle at her left, just like a scribe. Kieran's not sure who she's writing so many letters to, but she's been busy ever since she came back to their living space. "I don't know."  
  
"She's closed a lot of rifts, hasn't she?"  
  
"So they say." Mother shrugs, turning back to her current letter. "She's closed more than you or I, I'm sure."  
  
The way she says it means _we've finished this conversation_. Kieran decides it doesn't have to mean _don't start another one_ , though. Shutting his book, he asks, "Do you know where Father is right now? Is he wearing his ring?"  
  
He gets a laugh in return, but it isn't the harsh sound Mother uses when someone else has said something stupid. It's the laugh that she reserves for him and Father--he thinks, at least. It's been so long since he's seen Father that he's no longer sure, but he can't remember Mother laughing any other way around him. "He's always wearing his ring, Kieran."  
  
"So you know where he is."  
  
There's a moment when she's quiet, looking over at the flames dancing in their fireplace. She nods. "He's very far away. You know that."  
  
"He's going to come back, though." Kieran can't imagine why he wouldn't. Perhaps he could be killed, of course, but Kieran's certain that won't happen. Darkspawn cannot kill his father; why should anything else be able to?  
  
The way Mother looks at him is that funny, soft-eyed expression of hers, her mouth drooping down at the corners--something else he doesn't think anyone else gets to see. For a breath, it's as though she's a child herself, but then it's gone. She asks evenly, "Do you think so?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Well," she says. Did her voice falter? Kieran isn't sure. She shakes her head, her lips curving up just slightly. "May it be so. Now, back to work."


End file.
